The Things They Don't Want Blamed On The Alcohol
by oncethrown
Summary: A rewrite of Blame It On The Alchol, including a change up in spin the bottle, and what really happened when Blaine stayed over.
1. Chapter 1

Finn can't believe that Rachel actually let Puck pop open her dads' liquor cabinet, but he's not surprised that things went this far this fast. He'd seen the inevitable downward spiral that always resulted from Santana doing body shots off of Britney before, and he'd expected the added drama of a bunch of nerds who had never been drinking before. He hadn't expected Lauren Zises to have the tolerance of an Irish dockworker, but maybe he should have.

Either way, he figured it was best that someone stay sober, so, after going upstairs and stealing Santana's keys out of her coat just in case, he poured himself a cup of coke and sat back to watch the train wreck extravaganza.

Quinn was sitting in the corner, taking long pulls from her red cup and watching something. Finn follows her gaze to Sam and Santana making out, before Santana pushes Sam off, screams something and pulls him back. Quinn drains her and returns to the counter where the entire contents of Rachel's fathers' liquor cabinet are laying open. She starts randomly pouring things into her cup.

Finn takes a couple steps toward her, planning to offer to mix her a real drink, and stops. Quinn doesn't need to deal with him on top of everything thing else in her life. She deserves a night to just… be irresponsible, and not suffer any consequences. He goes over to the counter.

"Hey," he says, grabbing the bottle of coke.

"Don't make this worse, Finn," she snaps.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm designated driver. So if you need a ride, let me know."

She pauses, and takes the coke bottle from Finn, "Thank you."

He nodded at her and wandered back out into the party.

Kurt dances up to him, and Finn hopes like hell he's not an affectionate drunk. The two of them have made way too much progress as step brothers for a couple of drinks to dredge up all this crush bullshit again.

"Are you drinking?" Kurt asks, dancing as though no one around him can see them.

"No. Designated driver," Finn replies, "You?"

"No. Still trying to impress Blaine. Can't get too sloppy."

Finn has to admit that is sort of sweet. Until he and his step brother turn to see Blaine dancing by himself in the corner, also as though no one can see him, but in a very different way, and clearly three drinks past sloppy.

"Clearly he doesn't have the same concern," Kurt admits.

Blaine stumbles over, and throws him arm around Finn. Finn wonders what the hell it is that gay dudes see in him.

Blaine stammers out something drunk and stupid, nearly falls off of Rachel's stage, and he and Kurt wander off where they get sucked into a conversation with Sam, who Kurt mentioned used to go to Dalton and sort of knew Blaine.

Rachel comes onto him, and he takes pity on her. She's never been drunk, the whole social thing isn't easy for her, he can help her out tonight.

"Okay, Rachel, I know this is your first time at this, so let me break a few things down for you. People fall into certain archetypes while drunk," he begins pointing around the room "For example- Santana. The needy hysterical drunk. Britney the girl who turns into a stripper, and Artie, the guy who turns into a rap video," he points across the room to Puck and Mike Chang, who are sitting face to face pointing and occasionally high-fiving, "Puck and Mike Chang. The mellow, philosophical drunks, who will sit around and talk bullshit, then convince themselves it's all brilliant. Quinn and Lauren. Angry Girl drunks. Tina, Sam, Mercedes, and apparently Blaine. Happy Drunks. Then we come full circle to you. Needy Drunk. You're all hanging over me and getting lovey-dovey. It's not cool. And I'm not going to let you blame it on the alcohol."

Rachel doesn't look as hurt as he expected her too. She pulls back, and becomes the lonely nerd variation of Needy Girl Drunk.

"Spin the Bottle! Who wants to play Spin the Bottle!"

A cheer goes up, a circle is formed and Rachel downs the last sip of her wine cooler before setting the bottle in the middle. Santana calls them all losers and pours herself another drink.

Tina goes first, and lands on Mercedes. They share a friendly peck and both dissolve into hysterical giggles. Finn wonders if it's too late to sit out. If he lands on Rachel, only bad can happen, if he lands on Quinn, nothing good can happen. Puck's totally mellow drunk may not extend to Finn landing on Lauren… and anyone else is still a glee club girl.

Britney, still wearing only her bra, takes her turn, and lands on Mike. Mike shoots Tina a quick look before moving forward, and Britney grabs the back of his head and kisses him. Mike's eyes widen, Britney doesn't stop, and Finn sees Tina's mouth drop open. But before she can say anything, Santana has Mike by the back of the head.

"Alright, kids, this isn't a fucking big red commercial. No me gusta."

Sam grabs her hand and tries to get her to sit down and play. Santana throws his arm off.

"My turn!" Rachel declares. Finns stomach clenches. This is exactly what he's been dreading. He should have just sat at the bar with Santana and hoped she didn't flip out and hit him.

Rachel lands on Puck, who laughs, shrugs, moves forward and gives her a quick friendly peck. Finn ignores the little lick of jealousy in his stomach. It's not really for Rachel, it's more for the fact that she and Puck seemed to have moved from dating to not dating so easily, and he still has to do shit like pull her off of him when she's drunk.

"Kurt's turn!" Rachel cries. Mercedes claps and Kurt rolls his eyes, spins the bottle and endures Mercedes and Rachel as they start a drum roll on their thighs.

The bottle lands on Sam and a laugh breaks out.

"Nah, Nah, dog that's a do over," Artie declares.

Kurt shrugs, but Sam throws out an arm.

"Wait, that's not fair," Sam laughs, "It's his turn." He waves his fingers at Kurt in a "come here" gesture, "Come on. Mercedes and Tina did it."

"It's fine," Kurt waves a hand in front of him.

"Come on," Sam laughs, "You won't catch "the straight" I promise."

Kurt rolls his eyes again, but leans forward a little ways, his lips pressed tightly together. Sam repeats Britney's maneuver almost exactly. It's an uncomfortable moment, not just because it's a little weird, but because of the way Blaine starts laughing into his hands, and the way Sam's trying to open mouth Finns' freaking step brother. Santana grabs him by the hair and pulls him away too.

The threat of Santana's irrational vengeance, and the overall drunkenness of everyone involved break up the game. Rachel finds her way back to the microphone, and all it takes is an off tune rendition of "Endless Love" to kill the party.

Puck calls a cab for him and Lauren, and Finn starts herding up people who need rides.

* * *

"Awww…thanks for the ride, guys," Blaine laughs as Finn helps Kurt pull him out of the back seat of the car.

"No problem," Finn sighs tiredly. He's already hauled a lot of drunks home tonight, and he's exhausted. Puck and Mike had nearly dropped Artie carrying him up Rachel's stairs. Quinn and Britney had nearly thrown up when he took them home. The one grace of the night was that most of the girls had opted to sleep over at Rachel's meaning that the amount of trips he had to take had been cut down, and he hadn't had to take Santana and Quinn home at the same time, and risk one of them brutally murdering the other.

Blaine bumps his head as he pops out of the car, over balances and falls into Finn's chest with a "ohh…whoops." and a giggle.

At least Kurt seems as sick of this whole night as Finn is, because Finn has no intention of being on the other end of a dude's crush again. Kurt pulls Blaine back with his lips pursed tightly into his "I can't believe this is my life" face, and ducks under Blaine's arm.

"Come on," Kurt sighs, "Let's get you inside."

"Awww…thanks for the ride guys," Blaine repeats. Finn shuts the car door.

"Is this your house?" Blaine asks as Kurt pulls him up to the door.

"Yeah," Kurt answers, fumbling with the knob. Finn pulls it open and steps in front of them.

"It's nice." Blaine slurs.

"Shhh," Finn hushes him, "Come on, our parents are asleep. You've got to be quiet."

"Oh, sorry!" Blaine replies in a stage whisper.

"Come on, let's just get you in bed," Kurt mutters, pulling Blaine toward the stairs. Finn stops for a second, then grabs Kurt's free arm.

"Wait… where is he sleeping?"

"In my room," Kurt answers matter of factly.

"Really?" Finn demands. Kurt gives him the look that means he thinks he's being an idiot, "Do you thinks that's a good idea?"

"Oh… I need to lie down," Blaine moans.

"Do you think it's a better idea to leave him down here to wander around the house? Just help me get him up the stairs."

Finn grabs Blaine around the waist, Blaine giggles again, and the three boys make their way slowly up the stairs. Finn lets go of them at the top of the stairs.

"Kurt, hold up a second," Finn says.

Kurt sighs but turns around, leaving Blaine to slowly tip into the wall of the hallway.

"What, Finn?"

"Are you really going to have the… this guy… _sleep in your bed_, when he's so trashed he can't stand?"

"I'm not having this conversation with you again, Finn," Kurt's voice gets that edge to it, he points back at Blaine, who looks like he's about to slide down the wall, and continues, "You're right. He's so trashed that he can't stand. It's not exactly a turn on. Nothing's going to happen. Thanks for helping me get him up the stairs. Goodnight."

Kurt turns, and hauls Blaine's arm back over his shoulders.

"Thanks, Finn," Blaine calls. Kurt shushes him.

"Come on, Blaine," Kurt mutters. He hauls him down to his bedroom door, pulls it open and disappears.

Finn, figuring that his bedroom is several feet of hallway down from Kurt's and they have the bathroom between them, decides not to worry about it anymore.

"This was so much fun," Blaine says, falling back into Kurt's bed, "I've never been to a real party. Warbler parties aren't like this. We have them in the common room, and we all wear our uniforms, and there are cheese cubes, and once, Henderson brought of bottle of champagne, but it turned out to be sparkling cider."

"That's not surprising," Kurt says, bending down to take off Blaine's shoes.

"Did you have fun tonight?" Blaine asks.

"Yeah. It was okay."

"You should have had a drink."

Kurt pulls off Blaine's shoes, wondering momentarily what on earth he actually sees in this boy, and drops them onto the floor.

"Maybe next time."

Blaine wiggles his toes, sits up and gives Kurt his huge dopey smile.

Oh right. That's what he sees in him.

"Thanks for letting me stay here," he says, before sliding his way back up Kurt's bed. He doesn't sit up to do it. He shimmies, lifting up his knees and pushing his shoulders back a couple of times until his head hits the pillows.

"No problem." Kurt clears his throat uncomfortably and moves toward his dresser. He digs out his pajamas, and shoots a quick look at Blaine, who is laying still, looking in Kurt's direction, though probably not at him.

"I'm going to the bathroom."

"I'll come with, I need some water."

"I'll bring you some," Kurt cuts him off. He hurries out in to the hall, lets himself be thankful that Finn isn't still out there, and goes to the bathroom.

He flicks the light on, uses the restroom, watches his hands and catches sight of himself in the mirror.

Blaine is in his bed.

He's drunk, and fully dressed, and has been acting like a total idiot all night. For the last few weeks actually. But he smiled at Kurt in that sweet way.

And he is in his bed.

Kurt sets his folded pajamas on the bathroom counter, undoes and pulls off his tie, then begins to unbutton his shirt. Maybe he should have worn something else. The red shirt and leather pants is a little… Hitler youth. He drops the shirt to the floor and stands in front of the mirror in just the pants. It's a little glam rock now. He looks cute.

He turns to the side and pulls his boufanted hair down over his face a little.

He looks hot.

Hot enough for Blaine?

He shakes his head. Maybe letting Blaine stay over wasn't as innocent as he wanted to believe it was. Worse, maybe Finn had been right.

He sighs, pulls his pajama shirt on, pulls the leather pants off and replaces them with his pajama pants. He unbuttons the top button of his pajama shirt, looks at himself in the mirror, buttons it back up and pours Blaine a glass of water.

Back in his room, Blaine has pulled himself under the covers. Kurt sets the glass of water down on the nightstand and climbs into bed.

"Soo…" Blaine murmurs. Kurt's heart jumps. "Sam really planted one on you."

"Oh. Yeah," Kurt replies. "I guess he was really wasted."

"It's nice that he was so chill though, right?"

"Was Sam in the Warblers when he was at Dalton?" Kurt asks.

"No. I didn't really know him. He was just… sort of a dweeb. I mean… nice, but…dweeby. Dweeb. That's such a weird word. Dweeb. Dweeb. Dweeb."

"Yep. Weird word," Kurt agrees.

"So… how many…" Kurt feels the bed shift as Blaine moves on the other side, "How many people have you kissed?"

"Still nothing that really counts."

"Sam doesn't count?"

"Spin the bottle doesn't count."

"And if we're gonna count the things that don't count?" Blaine asks quietly.

"Umm… fine. Britney- the girl who started stripping. And Sam."

"Karofsky doesn't count?"

"No. He doesn't," Kurt spits, turning his head to face Blaine. Blaine has moved closer to him, and is laying on his side now, watching him.

"Hey, hey," Blaine drops his hand heavily onto Kurt's arm. Kurt's back stiffens. "Sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad."

"I know. It's fine."

Blaine's hand moves up Kurt's arm, over his shoulder, and back down.

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

Blaine is quiet for a moment, his hand still moving on Kurt's arm.

"Kurt?"

"Yeah?"

"I've never kissed anyone. At all."

"Oh," Kurt manages. He heart starts going into over drive, starting slow, then beginning to thunder faster and faster. Blaine shifts a little closer to him, his hand on Kurt's shoulder sliding up to his neck.

Kurt sets his hand to Blaine's collarbone.

"How drunk are you?"

"Not too drunk for this," Blaine replies.

Kurt shakes his head, "Yes you are."

"I just want to kiss you."

"No. You just want to kiss someone._ I_ want to kiss you," He pushes against Blaine's collar, not hard enough to actually push him away, but enough to make Blaine back up a little. "And I don't want to do it like this. This, a drunk kiss that you aren't even going to remember in the morning? That's not going to count either."

Blaine rolls onto his back. "Sorry."

"Goodnight," Kurt replies. He rolls his back to Blaine and lays still. It's hardly any time at all before Blaine starts snoring.

* * *

Part Two is on its way.


	2. Chapter 2

Tina, feeling vaguely as though Rachel letting her stay over means she should do something to help clean up, finishes screwing the caps back on all the bottles while the other girls drag themselves toward the furniture.

"Well. I think this went well," Rachel says collapsing onto the couch. "Lots of material. Jealousy and lust and booze and falertin-fratnen- hanging out with the enemy."

"The enemy?" Santana demands.

"Blaine. Blaine…Warbler," Rachel supplies.

"Well, if Kurt's hobbit boy-toy is the enemy, then so is Kurt," Santana reasons, flopping down next to Rachel.

"I miss Kurt," Mercedes sighs.

"Me too," Tina agrees, giving up on cleaning and going over to her friends. "Did you see the black leather tie he rocked tonight? There's no one else you can borrow that sort of thing from."

"I miss having someone around who tries to out bitch me, and calls Mr. Shue out," Santana admits.

"I can't believe we lost our counter tenor to an acapella outfit that has yet to feature him on lead vocal."

They gave her a look.

"And it sucks that just because of some, hulking, illiterate neanderthal like Karofsky, Kurt has to transfer to a whole different school," Rachel amends.

"It's not just having him at a different school," Mercedes continues, "I never get to hang out with him anymore. He's always with Blaine, he even brought him to a New Direction's party. And even when we do hang out now he's… less Kurt-like. I miss his attitude. Dalton has de-sassed him."

"Are he and Blaine-" Tina started, but Santana cut her off immediately.

"Uh. No," Santana snorted, "Did you see Blaine tonight? The boy could teach classes on virginity. There is nothing going on there, even though Kurt's clearly spent all day everyday throwing himself at Gay-y McEyebrows in betweens Charms Class and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Did you just make a Harry Potter joke?" Tina asks blurrily. That doesn't seem anywhere near Santana's alley.

"What? I read. Plus that Radcliffe boy is totally smoking'" Santana shrugs.

"You're just pissed because your Ken Doll tried to suck his face off," Mercedes tells her.

"Believe me, I know what a hopeless crush looks like. It's the way the entire freshman class looks at me. And Sam's not gay, he's just sweet and stupid."

"Sweet and Stupid is your type," Tina nods.

"I know," Santana sighs, "Sorry Rachel."

Rachel's not listening. She's humming something Tina doesn't recognize to herself.

"Looks like we lost Rachel," Mercedes notes.

"You're about to lose me too, I aints sleeping on no couch. I'm going up to her dads' room." Santana lurches off the couch, staggering slightly as she moves toward the stairs.

Tina and Mercedes follow her, both seeing the logic in not sleeping on a couch when there are empty beds.

Mercedes ducks into Rachel's astonishingly pink room, and Tina continues to follow Santana down the hallway.

"Do you know where there room is?"

"It's at the end of the hall. This is the same layout as my house," Santana yawns, "Gotta love them 'burbs."

She pulls open a door and ushers Tina into a more lavishly decorated room than Tina has ever seen outside of a Martha Stewart magazine. The bed has a canopy and everything is dark green.

"Wow," Tina says.

"Should've seen this coming from people who redesigned their basement for Oscar parties," Santana says, yanking back the covers and falling heavily into bed without even taking off her earrings.

Tina follows, crawling in on the other side of the huge bed.

"Hey Santana?"

"What?" Santana snaps.

"Thanks for breaking up Britney and Mike… you know, when they were kissing? I know it was just a game… but still. It was a little-"

"Don't even worry about it," Santana murmured. "I gots yo back Tanya."

Tina shook her head and decided to let it go. Santana seemed to be sobering up a little, but there was no reason to call her out on what was clearly a lie, or on the fact that she didn't remember Tina's name and risk having her flip out over whatever was actually bothering her.

"Thanks," Tina said. Santana made a sleepy noise of agreement.

XXX

Kurt woke up tired. For as much time as he had spent fantasizing about sleeping with a boy- okay, honestly, Finn- in his bed, he hadn't managed to account for any of the realities of it, like how hard it was to sleep when someone was snoring, and talking gibberish in their sleep. On top of that Blaine had tossed and turned through most of the night, constantly waking Kurt up.

Kurt considered just trying to back to sleep again, but he hadn't gotten used to his new, non-subterranean room yet, and it was just too bright for him to roll over and try to get anymore sleep. He rubbed his eyes, grabbed his robe and went to shower.

He really, really hoped that Blaine didn't remember last night. _I want to kiss you._ Of all the stupid shit to have said. And that wasn't even the worst thing. What if Blaine was horrified that he'd tried to kiss Kurt, or so embarrassed by this new evidence that he was , as he'd said, "no good at romance" that he freaked out? Or what if he was worried that this type of thing is exactly what would screw their friendship up, and they stopped having these perfect, flirty little moments that, pathetic or not, Kurt lived on, and played over and over again in his mind.

He got out of the shower and headed back to his room, where Blaine had managed to wrap himself further into the covers. Kurt suddenly worried how hung over Blaine might be. Blaine had only met Carol and his father once, and had barely spoken to them. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he ended up spending the morning apologizing for Blaine throwing up on something. He didn't want his dad to think that the guy he had been hanging out with was some sort of insane drinking, partying, irresponsible freak. Kurt dithered for a moment before deciding that there wasn't anything he'd be able to do about it before Blaine woke up anyway, and that he may as well be ready for the day. He went to his vanity and started working on his skin.

"Kurt!"

Kurt jumped, pulled out of his thoughts on what to do if Blaine did wake up sick.

"What the hell's a shirred egg? Is that like a scrambled egg?"

His dad burst through the door in exactly the way Kurt had told him not to. Kurt just sighed and continued moisturizing.

"Hey, come on, today's the day you're supposed to teach me about brunch."

Kurt pops his head around the corner. "I'll be right down."

His father looks shocked, and that's when Blaine wakes up.

"Where am I?" Blaine mutters.

Kurt's relief that Blaine doesn't remember what happened is instantly killed by the expression on his father's face as he excuses himself and backs out the of the room.

Oh shit.

XXX

Short chapter, but more coming.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt watches his dad book out of the room, shooting a last glance at Blaine as he does. Kurt nearly rises to go catch him, explain that it wasn't what he thought, but stops himself.

Why should he? He had gotten home at the same time as Finn, he hadn't been drinking, and nothing had happened. Actually, something could have happened and he'd stopped it. Why should he go running after his father to apologize when he had just made it through his first real high school party as the Patron Saint of Responsibility?

He finishes his moisturizing routine, goes to his bed, and shakes Blaine's shoulder gently. Blaine rolls over.

"Oh, hey," he yawns. "Where-"

"My room," Kurt answers. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," Blaine says, sitting up. "I didn't drink that much."

Kurt's eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything. Blaine smacks his lips, "Thirsty though."

Kurt hands him the glass of water that he had set on the nightstand last night and watches out of the corner of eye for any sign of memory jogged embarrassment.

Blaine sets down his glass. "This isn't how I pictured your room. It's… simple."

Blaine had thought about his bedroom. Kurt shuts down the entirely idiotic heart flutter that causes.

"Oh, wait," Blaine chuckles, looking down at the bed. "Faux fur duvet. Kurt must live here."

He looks up at Kurt and smiles, and Kurt tries not to melt a little.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Kurt asks.

"I really need to brush my teeth, but other than that," Blaine shrugs, "Why?"

"My dad's making breakfast. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't throw up if I offered you some scrambled eggs," he told him, trying to cut into the weird Florence Nightingale vibe that he'd been putting out there. "Cause I'm sure it's hard to get vomit out of a faux fur duvet."

Blaine gives him and unsure look, "I wasn't that drunk, was I?"

"Finn and I had to carry you up here."

Blaine shakes his head. "Oh. I don't remember that," he pauses for a moment then looks up at Kurt, "I didn't do anything really embarrassing did I?"

Kurt pauses. He had, not that anyone else would have noticed or probably remembered, but maybe he didn't need to know everything. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Uh…" Blaine looks up at the ceiling, "Singing with Rachel?"

Kurt breathes a deep sigh of relief, "As one of the only sober guests, I've got to tell you that I don't think Rachel forcing you through a couple of off key bars of "Endless Love" counts as singing."

Blaine looks horrified. "I was off key? Oh god, that is embarrassing."

"Trust me. No one else noticed that part."

"That's all though, right?"

"That was pretty much the end of the party. Santana got kind of hysterical during spin the bottle and killed everyone's buzz."

Blaine's eyes bug out, "We played spin the bottle? Did I-"

"No, you didn't," Kurt assures him, suddenly even more glad that no one, including him, had kissed Blaine last night. It would be awful not to remember your first kiss at all.

Even though Britney didn't really count, and Sam didn't really count, at least he had both of them to sort of… wash Karofsky off. It made it easier to pretend that he wasn't there at all, and to let Sam be the first guy who had kissed him. It still wasn't what he wanted, or who he wanted, but at least Sam was nice, and hot, and sweet enough to have had some drunken concern over Kurt being included in exactly the type of games he was left out of by default.

"Oh. Okay. Good," Blaine manages, "Maybe I don't… maybe you should, uh, walk me through last night."

"Kurt! Do you and Blaine want breakfast?" Carol's voice filters up the stairs.

"Are you up for breakfast?" Kurt asks.

"Sure. I should, uh, I should call my parents and let them know where I am though." He digs for his phone in his pocket, finds it empty, and starts poking around Kurt's bed for it, finally retrieving it from underneath one of the pillows.

Kurt busies himself with his robe, spending more effort than strictly necessary tucking the belt into a perfect knot.

"Hi, Mom," Blaine is saying, "…Yeah it was fun. Uh… hung out. Did some jamming. Pizza. You know….Yeah, I'll be home some time soon. Rachel and Tina are going to make breakfast and then I'm going to head home."

Kurt looks up at him, surprised that Blaine would lie to his parents.

"Uh, no. Kurt went home with his step-brother… No… No, Rachel's Dads were there… Yeah. Dads plural….yeah….okay I've gotta go. But I'll be home soon."

Blaine catches Kurt's slightly incredulous look, "Sorry, if they found out I slept over here they would flip out," he pulls a face and Kurt laughs. Blaine's eyes fall from his face down over the rest of him.

"What?" Kurt asks.

"Your robe is adorable. Very Gene Kelly."

Kurt burns with happiness as Blaine heads out his door.

OOO

Sam shows up at Santana's house with a rose. It's a little bit brown on the edges, it was in the cheap bin at the gas station, but he's worried that she's mad at him and he doesn't have any money.

Her mom opens the door, and Sam is momentarily shocked. Apart from her pink lips and her dark hair she looks nothing like Santana. She's short, just a little bit dumpy, and her smile is actually sort of kind.

"Uh… hi Mrs. Lopez. Is Santana in?"

"Of course, you must be Sam. Come in, come in."

She ushers Sam inside the house and leaves him in the foyer while she goes upstairs to retrieve Santana. After a few moments, Santana, her mother, and Britney appear at the top of the stairs. Her mother goes off to another room upstairs and Britney and Santana head down the stairs together. About half way down stairs Santana says something quietly to Britney, and Britney smiles.

"Hey guys," Sam calls out.

"Hi Sam," Britney says stopping in front of him, "I just wanted to say thanks for getting my bra back from Blaine last night. I was getting cold."

She smiles, and leaves, and Sam tries like hell to remember that happening, but comes up blank.

"What's this?" Santana asks him.

He gives her the rose, "It's for you. I know you got a little… upset during spin the bottle, and I just wanted to make sure that you weren't made at me for… you know…" he lowers his voice, in case Santana's parents are around, "Kissing Kurt. Things are really different at Dalton, I didn't think it was a big deal… but you seemed mad, and apparently Mercedes and Tina were sort of… protective and Puck and Finn were kind of… wierded out. I just… you told me to stop being such a dork, and I didn't want to… you know, bring down your rep or whatever."

Santana gives him that big sexy smile of hers, tilts her head and kisses him. She tastes like rootbeer lipsmackers.

"Don't worry about it, guppy lips," She says, setting her hand under his chin, "It's not like it counts right?"

He smiles at her, relieved, "Right."

OOO

Every single third period, of every single day since Hummel had transferred, Karofsky has dreaded going to P.E., which he somehow wound up having with Finn, Puck, and Sam.

Karofsky and Sam had been going out of their way to avoid each other since the scuffle in the locker room. And while it wasn't like Karofsky and Finn had ever been friends, whatever goodwill had existed between them during the whole "Football Team at Zombie Camp" thing had been obliterated by his own stupid inability to deal with… things. Things he just tried not to think about, that Sam and Finn somehow managed to force him to think about almost as often as Hummel had. Somehow, even though they didn't dress like freaks, or act like they were… like Hummel, Sam and Finn and the other Glee guys made him remember how he felt watching Hummel.

He had hated it. He'd hated seeing Hummel walk around, completely blasé about being the embodiment of something Karofsky still doesn't even like to think about. And now, with him gone, he hates seeing Hummel's friends walking around, being exactly what Karofsky can't imagine his friends will ever be like.

Zombie Camp, and doing that half time show had been like a constant torture for him. Because he had loved it. And it forced him to realize that if he had just… not said anything to Hummel, if he hadn't singled him out, if he had just kept his… feelings… in check, maybe he could have joined the glee club too. Maybe he could have slowly shifted from a Hockey kid to a Glee kid, made excuses to his family, had friends like Sam and Mike Chang instead of friends like Azimio, and everything would have been easier.

But no. He hadn't been able to imagine that the fucking Glee club would stand behind someone like Kurt the way that they had. He still couldn't believe that the male half of the Glee Club had been willing to _beat him up_ on Hummel's behalf. So he'd kept taunting the kid, he'd gone totally overboard, he'd… outed himself to the kid, and then he'd been forced into spending a week with the one group that could have accepted him, may have even supported him, but he could never go back there because they wouldn't accept someone who had hurt Hummel, and if he did try to patch things up, he still wouldn't be able to be part of a group with the one person who knew the truth about him. No matter how many times he went over it in his mind (which was all the time, these days) it never became less of a Catch-22. It had morphed and mutated into a Catch-44, or maybe even a Catch-66 by now.

He wonders, splashing cold water over his face, if his life would still have been this hard if he hadn't gone out of his way to make it harder.

He hears the locker room door open, and Finn's voice, and just can't take pretending to do the tough guy, jack ass, _known homophobe_ thing today. He ducks into a bathroom stall and tries to just be quiet.

"I feel awful," Sam moans, "Seriously, awful. Is it possible for booze to rot and make you this sick?"

"No," Puck laughs, "It's possible to drink too much on your first time out and just remain sick for days."

"So why aren't you sick?" Sam asks.

"Cause he didn't drink so much that he thought trying to tongue Kurt was a good idea."

Karofsky's heart jumps. No way. Not Sam too.

"Look, seriously guys? It's not a big deal. So I kissed Kurt. So what? Doesn't make me gay, doesn't make me bi, doesn't make me like Santana any less. Not a big deal."

"Santana's still pissed though, right?" Puck yawned.

"Nah. Once she sobered up she was totally cool about the whole thing."

"It's not about the gay thing. He had a crush on you," Finn said. "You can't just go around leading Kurt on like that. He gets… all…. Gay weird. And with the crappy year he's been having…"

"That's true, dude," Puck chimes in, "Our boy's had enough shit from that damn Karofsky jackass to be getting bad mojo off of his own glee club."

Karofsky flinches.

"I don't think drunk spin the bottle counts as leading someone on. I don't think acknowledging that he could play Rachel's stupid game too is bad mojo. And besides, Mercedes told me that Kurt wasn't into it. He's after Blaine."

"Yeah. Burt found Blaine in his bed the next morning. He kind of flipped," Finn says quietly.

"Woah… no way," Puck howls, "They didn't-"

"Look, guys, I'm cool with Kurt and all… but I don't… I'm not having this conversation."

"Whatever," Sam says.

"As long as I don't hear any of the details, I have to admit I'm curious," Puck says, "Cause you know if Hummel rounded the bases out ahead of you, I'm going to taunt you."

"Remember when you knocked up my girlfriend?" Finn sighs.

"Right. That concludes this conversation."

"I cannot handle gym today you guys," Sam moans again.

"Me neither," Finn agrees. "Let's see if we can go to the nurse."

"I feel fine. I'm not giving up a dodge ball day," Puck answers, "A chance to pound on Karofsky for points? It's on."

Karofsky stands completely still, listening as the door hinges squeak and the three boys voices fade away.

He's distantly aware that he's shaking. He sits down on the toilet and holds his hands out in front his face. Yeah. He's shaking like hell.

Hummel had gotten even gayer. Sam could give a rip about having drunkenly kissed him. Puck was almost encouraging of something that he should be disgusted by, and Finn was genuinely worried about his step-brother's feelings. It had sounded like such a normal conversation between them.

Especially the part where they hated him.

OOO


	4. Chapter 4

"So you didn't drink at all?" Blaine asks, still sounding surprised.

"No," Kurt says, grabbing his coffee. He'd offered to pay, but Blaine had insisted that, after the whole carrying up the stairs and being found by his father thing, he owed Kurt coffee. They sat down in their regular spot. "Last year at McKinley Mr. Shuester brought this old, and I mean old, alcoholic student back into the group, because Vocal Adrenaline flunks kids on purpose to keep them in the group, and she uh, she gave me all her vintage muscle magazines and… supplied me. A lot. I showed up drunk to school for a like a week and threw up on our OCD guidance counselor."

"Wow. Do you have…like, a problem?" Blaine asks carefully.

"No." Kurt rolls his eyes. "I don't. I just… my dad would freak, and having that terrible of a hangover kind of kills the fun."

"So… you didn't really get a chance to fill me in. What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Kurt says innocently, "You were there the whole time."

"You know what I mean."

Kurt clears his throat, "Why? Is there something that you only vaguely remember that you're worried about?"

Blaine gives him an appraising look, "Fine. I can't remember Spin the Bottle, and since I remember singing with Rachel afterward, I'm a little worried about how much of the party I missed."

Kurt takes a sip of his latte, "Fine."

He starts at the very beginning, letting Blaine just nod along as he goes through the things that he knows Blaine remembers: Rachel trying to hand out drink tickets for wine coolers, Puck breaking into Rachel's Dads' liquor cabinet and then slowly, Blaine's nods get less frequent as Kurt moves in to describing Quinn wrapping herself up in Blaine's scarf, Santana doing body shots off of Britney, Mike Chang attempting to get Puck to pop and lock, Lauren Zizes stumbling over to ask Blaine if he was mixed race, and Britney pulling her bra off and draping it over Blaine's head, while asking him to kiss her armpits.

"Wow. Maybe I was drunk," Blaine admits, "Please tell me that at least one embarrassing thing happened to you. We've always been honest, just make me feel better."

"Uhh.. okay. Sam landed on me during spin the bottle and tried to stick his tongue down my throat."

Blaine laughs, a laugh that either isn't the usual, throaty, dapper laugh that Kurt imagines Blaine having, or possibly, Blaine's actual laugh now that a couple days of him being a dork have passed by and Kurt's spent the last 10 minutes explaining to him that he's a tool when he's drunk.

"Wow. Really? Good for you."

"Good for me?" Kurt asks.

"Yeah. He's hot. And look at Finn. Tall, dopey quarter-backs are your type," he grins and Kurt's suddenly a little irked. It's not like their "Harry Met Sally" moment had been some big weird thing that they had both been desperately trying to ignore. I had been pretty much a non-issue. But still. Blaine could pretend that he'd at least been in the same room when Kurt had admitted that he liked Blaine.

"And shy boys with long blonde hair are clearly yours," Kurt replies, in his high wispy, non-committally sarcastic voice.

Blaine chuckles, "Uh… I don't know what my type is, I guess. Though umm.." a little pink colors his cheeks, "Jeremiah was a really good kisser."

Kurt officially snaps out of his tolerant mood.

"What?" Kurt demands.

Blaine shrugs uncomfortably. "He was."

Kurt huffs himself up, holding his back ramrod straight, and setting one hand out on the table in preparation to push himself up as haughtily as he can manage.

"That's not what the "what" was about."

"Kurt… come on, we said we weren't going to screw this up."

Pissed, pissed, pissed now.

"Okay, Blaine, just… tell me which one was the lie, okay?"

"I don't," Blaine shakes his head, "I don't know what you're so upset about."

"That's right. You don't remember," Kurt sighs, "Before we went to sleep you tried to kiss me."

Blaine's big eyebrows pull together, "I'm…sorry?" he tries.

"You asked me about kissing Sam, you asked me how people had kissed me, you told me you'd never kissed anyone before, and you tried to kiss me. And I wouldn't let you do it drunk. So, what Blaine? Were you lying to me so you could kiss me or are you lying now to, what make me jealous?"

Blaine's shoulders hunch, "Fine. I'm lying now."

"Why?"

"Because, Kurt, sometimes you make me feel like a complete idiot."

"For not having a shortlist of non-kisses?"

"Because at Dalton I get to be mentor-guy for all the little baby-duckling gays, you know? I'm the Warbler soloist, I'm class leader, and after what happened to me at my old school, I like being able to be looked up to. You just pop that bubble for me all the time."

"I don't make you feel bad on purpose!" Kurt pushes himself about halfway up, just in defense.

"No, you just do it! You're loud and brash and individual, you walked around a warzone like McKinley in an Alexander McQueen sweater with a copy of Vogue and a stack of vintage muscle magazines under your arm! I did anything I could to keep my head down, and just got quieter while the bullies got more vicious. You took my stupid "Courage" bravado and actually did it. You screamed a homophobe twice your size out of the closet, then threw him off of me when I tried to go and "have your back". Wes and David are practically drooling over the ways that they're going to pull you out front to shake out the high notes for Regionals. Now I've had to have you sitting in the front row while I humiliated myself in front of the entire North Hills mall, trying to impress an older guy who trotted me out to a couple of pity coffees, and while I ran around trying to be cool with the freaking New Directions kids, and now I'm 17 and I haven't ever kissed anyone at all, and you're upset about a completely gorgeous football player laying one on you?"

Kurt pushes himself the rest of the way to standing, grabbing his coat.

"Fine, Blaine. This is all about you, I'm clearly not involved in this at all, so I'm going to go and you just let me know when you've stopped being mad at yourself."

And, with exactly the type of self-possession that Blaine apparently hates about him, Kurt storms out of the coffee shop.

OOO

Kurt gets home from coffee, still upset. He just wants to wear his real clothes, be at home and not think about Blaine, or what an idiot he can be, for a little while. He toys with the idea of calling Mercedes as he goes up the stairs, but he talks himself out of it by the time he gets to his room.

One, she resented Blaine a little bit for getting so close to Kurt so fast, and while Kurt understands that she's gotten over that, it seems like exactly the same type of insensitivity for him to complain to Mercedes about Blaine as it is for Blaine to lie to him about Jeremiah like that.

Two, if he unloads about this, he'll unload about everything, and he's not sure he can do that. He'll end up telling her how much he misses New Directions, how overwhelming Dalton is. How he's worried that his father has hit a road block in being okay with him being gay. How he likes Blaine, about Blaine drunkenly trying to kiss him, which he doesn't think he should start broadcasting, and then he'll just keep going. He'll tell Mercedes about Karofsky threatening to kill him, he'll tell her about Karofsky kissing him, and then there is a solid chance that Mercedes will tell the rest of the glee club about it the same way that she told the entire glee club about Puck being the real father of Quinn's baby.

And, while he appreciated it in theory, the glee club attack on Karofsky was totally uncalled for, didn't help anything, and definitely doesn't need a reprise. Not that he thinks that they would hurt Karofsky for kissing him, but they would undoubtedly try to approach him about it, and none of them understand that that is exactly what they can't do to him.

Maybe… he thinks, pulling off his uniform… maybe he could tell Finn? He'd asked Finn not to tell the rest of the Glee Club about Karofsky threatening to kill him, and based on the fact that Mercedes had no idea, he was pretty sure that Finn had kept that promise.

But he doesn't think Finn is going to have this conversation with him.

He pulls on some jeans, and after considering something a little more stylish, decides he doesn't really have the energy for more than a comfortable sweater. He lays back on his bed, considering just laying there and staring at the ceiling for a while, when there is a knock at the door.

"Hey, Kurt?" It's his dad.

"Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

Kurt sits up and tries to pull himself together a little bit. "Sure."

His dad opens the door, cook book tucked under his arm, "How was school?"

"Fine, just sort of a long day."

"I was thinking… the whole brunch thing... didn't happen on Sunday. I thought if you didn't have a lot of homework you could teach me to make something."

He has that look on his face, the one that means he's prepared to be uncomfortable and Kurt wonders if, maybe, he might be ready to have this whole "found a guy in your bed" conversation with him.

"Uhh… sure. Of course."

Kurt decides that his crummy day calls for soufflé, but didn't count on the frustration factor of being held back by teaching his father to do some of the little fiddly things that really aren't that hard.

He's tired, and miserable, and aware that he's taking it out on his father, but just not quite able to stop himself. After the month he's been having, all he wants in the world is to pull out the drawers in his mother's dresser and lay on the floor in front of it, but now with two more people in the house and all of the time that he would usually have in the house to himself sucked up by his commute to Dalton, that particular comfort isn't really an option.

And then the soufflé that he was looking forward to gets screwed up.

"You didn't leave enough room in the dish to let it rise," he sighs dropping a dirty dish into the sink.

"Why are you being so hard on me? I would have been happy with you teaching me to make toast."

"I'm know. I'm sorry…" he decided to push a little and see if he really could have this conversation with his father, "It's just… it's Blaine."

His father's face tightens up a little, it doesn't shut down, but he moves into a slightly defensive mode.

"Blaine…the drunk one?"

"That's not fair, we were at a party."

"We?"

"We. Me and Blaine and Finn and everyone from glee club."

"Wait, you're all drinking now?"

"Finn and I didn't have any. Blaine was just experimenting. And maybe got a little…carried away."

His dad laughs and heads to the fridge for a beer, he's not really supposed to have any since his heart atack, but Kurt bites his tongue.

"Yeah. He's not the only one." The defensive mode shifts again, into serious conversation mode, and Kurt begins to worry that trying this conversation was a mistake.

"What's that mean?"

"I need you to ask me before you have someone sleep over."

Yeah. It had been a mistake. "We were fully clothed the entire time," Kurt says, realizing as he says it that it's a little more suggestive than what was completely necessary, "He couldn't drive. I let him stay here. I was being responsible."

"You were being inappropriate."

And that's it. This was supposed to be his relief from the day. Family time. Souffle. Not getting reprimanded for something he didn't do, and especially considering that Kurt lived under the same roof as someone who had thought he knocked his girlfriend up last year, he didn't need to be treated like it was a disaster if he did do anything.

"And if Puckerman had a sleepover with Finn, would that be inappropriate?"

"That's different."

"Because they wouldn't have sex?" Kurt says it to get exactly the reaction he does get. His dad gets a little freaked out, his voice gets a little higher

"No! I would never allow _Finn_ to have a_ girl_ sleepover _in his bed-_"

It's a valid point, and the fact that Kurt had been hoping to have a father-son conversation about Blaine just proves that it's a valid point, but now he's at the end of his rope. He's been taking it and taking it and taking for the last month and now he's going to lash out at someone whether they deserve it or not.

"But would you be uncomfortable if he did?"

"Hey- when have I been uncomfortable with you being gay?"

"So, it's not being gay that upsets you, it's just… me acting on it?" Now this is just stupid. The way things are going _Sam_ is closer to acting on being gay than Kurt is.

"I don't know what two guys do when they're together. I sat through that whole Brokeback Mountain. From what I gather, something went down in the tent."

"Okay, what do you want from here, Dad, I-"

"I want you to apologize for being inappropriate, and promise me that you'll never do it again."

Kurt grits his teeth. Whatever. It's not like there's even any point in having this conversation. He doesn't have any opportunity to be 'inappropriate' under the roof, on top of the roof, or in any way adjacent to this roof or any other.

"Fine. I'm sorry. I won't have sleepovers with anyone who might be gay, without asking you first."

"Thank you."

He can tell from his dad's snark on the thank you that he's caught that Kurt didn't promise not to do it at all.

He turns to go upstairs, lock himself in his room and just try not to deal with all this shit, but can't stop himself from turning around.

"But maybe you could step outside your comfort zone and educate yourself. So that if I have any questions I could go to my dad, like any straight son could."

He ducks out, cheeks suddenly burning, more conscious than he thought he'd be of the fact that he'd basically just told his father that he had every intention of having sex with some guy at some point, and given the circumstances of the weekend and the conversation, probably left a decent insinuation that it would be Blaine. And also totally failed to mention that this wasn't supposed to be a totally romantic conversation about Blaine, part of this conversation was supposed to be about what a jerk Blaine could be.

The burn in his cheeks moves to his eyes and he brushes them quickly. He just wants something to be easy for once. That's all. It's not too much to ask for. Staying at McKinley could have been easy. Dating Blaine could have been easy. Calling Mercedes could have been easy. But no. None of it was. Not even having a conversation with his father was easy.

He ducked into his room, sniffling and trying not to, and threw himself down on his bed in a way that was only slightly satisfying .

There was a knock at the door. He didn't answer. He was done fighting with his father, he didn't need to hear it, whatever it was. Yes, he'd pushed too hard, but yes, he was still gay. And the whole "sleeping with men" thing was eventually going to be part of that. Theoretically, at least. So what if he'd introduced that concept a little too early?

"Kurt?"

It was Carol.

"Yeah?"

"Can I come in?"

"Umm-"

"Please?"

"Yeah, fine."

Carol opens the door slowly, and comes in with a careful smile on her face.

"I heard you and Burt."

"Sorry."

"You okay?"

"Yeah… just… tired and"

"Did something happen with you and Blaine?"

"No!" Kurt huffs. "Nothing happened! He was too drun-"

"No, sweetheart. I mean did you two have a fight or something?"

Kurt swallows. Carol shuts the door behind her and folds her hands in front of herself. Her smile is caring and concerned, and just a little awkward, but awkward as though she's unsure if she's overstepping her bounds, not as though she's uncomfortable about what she's asking.

"Sort of."

Kurt tells her about getting upset with Blaine, about calling him out on lying to him, which means he has to fill her in on Sam drunkenly kissing him at the party, which then means he has to tell her how he told Blaine that he liked him and Blaine had just wanted to stay friends. That leads to filling her in on the whole Gap Attack disaster and how neither of them have ever had boyfriends, but at least Blaine had been on a couple little dates-

"And all I've managed is awkward, awful kisses that don't even count with three people," Kurt sighs, sniffling a little bit as Carol sets an arm over his shoulders, "Which just sucks, because it just makes that first real one seem so far away."

"Three?"

And here's the moment. He's already told Carol everything else. He's already been able to dump the things that his father isn't ready to hear about on her, he's already been able to tell her a few things he can't tell the glee club for fear that they'll spread all over McKinley.

"Sam, Britney and…" he gulps, Carol tightens her hand on his shoulder, "Please don't tell my dad about this."

Carol bites her lip, "Kurt…"

He shakes his head, "Never mind. It doesn't…"

"Okay- I promise," Carol insists.

"Karofsky," Kurt says it under his breath, "When I chased him into the locker room that time, he grabbed me, and he kissed me and he freaked. That's why… that's why he got so bad. He threatened to kill me if I told anyone about it. I haven't… I only told Blaine, and he came to McKinley, we thought it might help, but Karofsky just drove him into a wall and-"

Carol turns, reaches around him and hugs him. His back stiffens a little. He didn't see this coming. It's very… he's not sure what to think.

It's not like he doesn't get hugged. Mercedes hugs him. Rachel hugs him. His dad hugs him. His dad actually probably hugs him more since Kurt came out, but this is different. This is a Mom Hug.

Thinking of Finn as his step brother is starting to feel normal, and he knows that Finn has thought of his dad as a Dad type of figure ever since that first dinner at Breadsticks, and now kind of thinks of him as the Dad he never have, and always deserved. And Kurt knows that in Finn, his father has gotten the son that Kurt wouldn't say his father would have preferred, but there's no point in pretending that having athletic, popular, slightly dim Finn for his son wouldn't have been easier on every level. Much easier than glossing over the fact that all his three year old wanted for his birthday was a pair of sensible heels, or having tea parties, or having to send him to an expensive private school so that he wouldn't get killed.

And Kurt likes Carol, she's a great person, and she makes his father so happy… but she isn't _his _mom. She's more like Finn and his dad. Not like him, like his Mom had been. His mom had been the one to teach him to tie a bow tie around the same time she'd taught him to tie his shoes.

But Carol had tried. She hadn't been as excited about a makeover as he had been, but she'd looked through the hair cut books at the stylists, and gone shopping with him. She had come up here to talk to him about boy trouble. She was hugging him like she wanted to be his mom.

He reached up and hugged her back, dropping his chin on to her shoulder as she squeezed him before letting him go and patting his hair a little bit.

"Ugh… you are such a _good_ kid, Kurt," she sighs, sounding just a little teary. "You know… maybe we should… maybe the two of us should go do something sometime."

Kurt nods, "Yeah. I'd like that."

"There's a little spa type thing opening near work. Maybe I could see if they're having some sort of opening week deals."

"Okay," Kurt agrees.

They sit in an oddly truce like pause for a moment.

"So. You and Blaine did have a fight."

"I never understand what's going on with him," Kurt sighs. "It's completely impossible. I thought only girls were supposed to be this difficult."

"Honey," Carol pats his leg, "Some things are the same no matter what side of the fence you land on." She stood up. "I think I am going to go have some ruined strawberry soufflé for desert."

"I think I just need to get some rest," Kurt sighs.

"Yeah. I think that's a good idea," Carol heads for the door, opens it, and closes it again, "And if you do… work things out with him…your father and I will uh… educate ourselves."

Kurt's cheeks burn again. Carol drops the Mom mode for a second, "Just… thank god you won't get anyone pregnant," she sighs and leaves.

Kurt digs his phone out of his pocket, considers calling Blaine, and calls Mercedes instead. Just to catch up.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Wow. "Sexy" was awesome. Burt Hummel for Dad of the Century. I wrote most of this chapter before the episode aired and it was only supposed to be a rewrite of Blame it On the Alcohol, because I've got a few other stories working… but now I'm tempted to just make a somewhat AU version of the rest of the season. *sigh* I need more hours in a day.

Thanks for all your reviews and enjoy!

* * *

Quinn is still staring at her homework, beginning to wonder if it waould make more sense if she took a quick nap, or went downstairs to raid Mercedes fridge. She had moved back in with Mercedes just after sectionals. Her parents had been talking and were starting to use phrases like "Just a trial separation" and "together in the Lord" and Quinn was done. She is done pretending to be what she isn't. She isn't a Cheerio, she isn't sweet, she hates Glenn Beck, and maybe, after everything, she isn't that good of a Christian either.

So she'd called Mercedes, and taken off. She had just wanted to do what she wanted to do for a once. And she had clearly overdone it. She had done what she wanted with Sam, she had done what she wanted with Coach Sylvester, and then she had done what she wanted with Finn. And now she was alone, and she was angry.

There is a knock on the door and it inches open.

"Hey Quinn," Mercedes sighs, stepping inside with her books held quietly to her chest, "Have you done the math yet?"

"Yes," Quinn replies, "If "am still staring at a blank page" counts as done."

"I know. I was hoping you were up for a coffee break. Maybe something frozen and sugary. Possibly even chocolatey"

"Sounds like the perfect cure for study fatigue to me," Quinn sighs.

She and Mercedes climb in Quinn's car and head out for the coffee place on the other side of town, just for the hell of it. The freedom of staying with Mercedes's family is still a little intoxicating. They had said they were leaving and had just been waved out the door. The snoopiest Mercedes's mother ever got was asking to be texted if they changed locations.

No embarrassing questions, no insane rules, no pretending that blantantly un-okay things are okay.

"So, how are you holding up?" Mercedes asks. "You looked a little… rough at Rachel's party."

Quinn growls, "It's just such a pain. I can't believe I got dumped for _Santana_. Cheated on with Santana, sure, fine, par for the course at McKinley, but left for Santana?"

"Well…" Mercedes starts hesitantly, "You did kiss Finn."

"A grand total of twice. I'm not a saint. But if he thinks that's bad he's not going to get any better from Santana."

"That's true," Mercedes agree, "She's probably not going to last much longer."

"Are you kidding? I guarantee you that she and Britney have already had sex at least twice since Santana and Sam started going out."

"Wait-what?"

"Are you actually surprised?" Quinn demands, knowing exactly what she's doing. Just because it's an open secret doesn't mean everyone knows, but she's pissed and she's outing the two of them to the club gossip, and screw them too. "The tricycle dates, the pinky holding, the fact that Britney accidentally let it slip to a chunk of the glee club? Kurt knew.

"So are they…"

"I don't know. But this has been going on for years. It's been going on since Britney started dating Artie, and I can't think of a single reason that it would stop for Sam."

"Um…wow."

"Yeah. Wow," Quinn replies, "I'm surprised nothing happened while they were drunk."

"Okay… I'm sorry, but between you and Kurt I have to ask this- What is it about Finn? Where is the attraction there? I mean he's nice enough and he can sing, but he's childish, he can't dance, he's not the brightest, and you did cheat on him with Puck, who has a way nicer body."

"Well, you went out with Puck, so you know exactly why he would lose out to Finn. I guess… he's like a puppy. He's cute, he's sweet, he's loyal, he's dumb."

"That doesn't sound like good reasoning," Mercedes says as Quinn pulls into a parking space.

"And I loved him," Quinn says, the harsh tone she's been using ever since Mercedes asked her if she was okay finally softening.

* * *

Kurt's still wallowing in his room. Mercedes hadn't answered, but she'd texted him to let him know that she was studying with Quinn. Apparently she was going to call him later with some big news about Britney and Santana. Kurt was pretty sure he knew what it was, but didn't mind giving Mercedes the thrill of telling him.

He should be doing homework. He should be worrying about whether or not Carol is really going to keep something as major as the fact that Karofsky kissed him from his father, he could even been cleaning his room, but all he's doing is playing Blaine's pissy little speech over and over in his head.

"You just pop that bubble for me all the time."

"Walked around a warzone like McKinley in an Alexander McQueen sweater."

"Took my stupid bravado about courage and actually did it."

Well. Thanks a lot for the _advice_ Blaine. Way to get me attacked and threatened, Kurt thinks. But it wasn't exactly to put all the blame on Blaine for that. Kurt would have done some variation of that even without stupid dapper Blaine's stupid dapper texting. He'd spent the whole Gaga lesson yelling back at Karofsky, he'd taken half of his speech at Karofsky in the locker rooms from what he'd already been telling Azimio and Karofsky before Finn showed up in his Red Vinyl Dress. That's who he was. Apparently that's what Blaine wanted to be.

Well… he could have it. And maybe if he tried it for a while _in a warzone like McKinley_ then he'd be able to get off his stupid high-horse about not being able to shepherd the poor baby-duckling gays at Dalton (two of whom Kurt knew, and neither of whom needed shepherding as much as one of them needed a shower and the other needed to get outside into the fresh air every once in a while) and be able to just be the Blaine that he'd been before Kurt had transferred. When they'd been able to hang out and have fun and go to plays together and not get all competitive over solos and all the other bullshit.

There's a knock on his door, this time Finn walks in.

"Hey, that warbler guy is here," Finn tells him, "Burt's down there talking to him. You should hurry."

Kurt's already moving at "Burt is down there" and crests the stairs in time to see Blaine extending out his hand to his father. His father doesn't take it at first, but points to the to-go cup of coffee in Blaine's other hand.

Carol comes in from the living room as Kurt hits the bottom of the stairs, she shakes Blaine's hand somehow manages to pull his dad away without making it obvious.

Now alone, Blaine thrusts the to-go mug toward Kurt.

"I'm a complete jerk," he says. "Everything I did at the party was stupid. Everything I've said to you for the last couple of days was stupid, and I just generally suck. You stormed off without your latte. I brought you another one."

"It's nine o'clock and we have school in the morning," Kurt points out, not quite willing to unclench that easily.

Blaine looks at his still mid-proffer mug.

"Damn."

And that's what it takes. Kurt lets his shoulders drop a little bit and takes the mug from Blaine, taking a sip from it.

"And it's cold. Come on. We'll go heat it up and I'll split it with you."

Kurt leads Blaine into the kitchen, Blaine sits at the table, looking down at the surface of it as though it is completely fascinating, and waits for Kurt to get two mugs down and heat up coffee for both of them.

Kurt sets a mug in front of Blaine and then sits down across from him.

"Kurt…" Blaine starts carefully, weirdly shy and quiet. He's never shy and quiet, and Kurt tries to stifle the slight uptick of his heart beat before he gets let down again. "Kurt do you know how many Dalton kids transfer in? How many kids at Dalton haven't been down on the list since birth? Like Hogwarts style?"

Kurt resists the urge to laugh and shakes his head.

"You. Xan Li a grade below us, the scary genius 11 year old a grade above us, and me," he shrugs uncomfortably, "And there are only another five guys who don't board at Dalton. Yes. There is a no bullying policy. You've seen it. We don't get bullied. We live in this happy little world where race and sexual orientation don't matter and you can convince a whole group of guys to do something really stupid for a valentine's gesture that was not well thought out in any regard…but there are still cliques. Guys hang out with people in their dorms. Or guys whose families have all gone to the same ivy-league schools after graduating. There are cliques based around the fraternities that people's grandfathers were in. Do you see where I'm going with this?"

"No," Kurt said.

"The real reason that I grabbed you when you came to spy on us, and the real reason that had Wes and David come talk to you… I've been lonely at Dalton since I transferred in. I don't have a clique. I got into the Warblers, but the Warblers isn't nearly as solid a clique as all those other ones… and I don't really have anything in common with most of the guys there. Yes, we get along and there is a culture of respect and everything…but you're….you're my only actual friend at Dalton, Kurt," Blaine stared at his own finger as he drug it uncomfortably across the table in front of him.

"I talk to you about the same type of gay rights stuff that even Mercedes didn't want to sit through. I talk to you about the musicals the Warblers don't think have enough pedigree to consider. No one in the Warbler's will listen to Wicked. Kurt… I talk to _you_ about football," he finally laughs and Kurt rushes to join in, "I haven't…we haven't… had any opportunity to figure out the romance thing like our straight friends have, and I don't know what I'm doing. I haven't had any opportunity to figure anything out really, I just fake being able to do all of the things that you actually do," his voice lowers oddly, "that I really admire about you. I meant what I said- I don't want to screw this up. I can't lose you as a friend. I don't have anyone else to talk to. And yeah, I want to be able to date people… but I think the whole Jeremiah thing proves that I…I need to actually try to connect with someone before running off after what I think I should have. I think I actually need a friend."

Kurt has no idea how to reply to Blaine completely dropping the entire act. He has no idea how to reply to being Blaine's only friend, and he is aware that this is not helping his crush. He sips his coffee, and Blaine continues to stare at the table.

Finn walks into the kitchen, takes in the intense moment he didn't expect and slowly backs out of the room. Kurt laughs, Blaine laughs. The tension breaks.

"We should hang out with the New Directions more often."

"Yeah?" Blaine asks.

"Yeah. The party was fun. They liked you. They all love Wicked. It'd be perfect."

"Okay. Sure. Maybe we should go out with Mercedes and Rachel some time."

"Mercedes is supposed to be calling me back some time tonight. I'll see what she wants to do."

"Okay. I uh… I'm not actually supposed to be out this late on school nights," Blaine says suddenly, " I should uh-"

"Oh, yeah. You probably should. I don't think my dad's thrilled about you showing up here."

Blaine looks genuinely shocked, "Why? I thought your dad was… cool about you being-"

"Oh he is. He just found you in my bed remember?"

Blaine's eyes snap shut in embarrassment. "Right.

"Come on. I'll walk you out," Kurt says. Blaine stops him.

"Just… one more thing. I'm sorry that I tried to kiss you, especially after the whole… you know. Thing. And thanks for not kissing me."

"Not a problem," Kurt assures him. He walks Blaine out and Blaine surprises him by hugging him goodbye.

He closes and locks the door, and turns around, catching a glimpse of his father ducking his head back into the living room, where he'd clearly been spying.

Kurt decides to let it go and goes back to his room. Probably to stare at his homework and think about how cute Blaine is when he's apologetic, rather than actually do his homework. But he's trying.

* * *

This plan is flawless.

Okay, maybe it has a couple of flaws.

Okay, fine it's a terrible plan. But Karofsky doesn't care anymore. He can't take it. He'd been publicly shamed during dodgeball and he is going to make Susie Pepper his girlfriend.

It had started out pretty much as expected. They were still playing dodgeball. Sam, Puck and Finn all wound up on the same team. The one opposite Karofsky.

Puck had wailed Karofsky so hard he was pretty sure he'd had a bruise on his shoulder right on the first hit and had to sit the whole first game out. The game had gone on pretty much normally, weeding things down to just one kid, the foreign exchange student, who realized that he couldn't outrun the entire opposing team, smiled, held out his arms and been gently tagged out.

But then things had turned ugly.

The next game had started, and Puck hadn't hit him. Finn hadn't hit him. No one had hit him. The team started to get whittled down and once it had gotten down to maybe 10 people, Puck and Finn seemed to have joined brains or something. They started surgically striking everyone out, until it was just Karofsky.

It had been mob mentality. Puck wailed him, Finn wailed him, Sam had wailed him and then the couple of nerds that always fell into line behind Puck in terror joined in.

Only the Glee guys' hits had physically hurt. But the subsequent rain of dodge balls had been… terrifying. It was like… it was like being viciously bullied. Singled out and viciously bullied.

It was like what the football team had done to Artie. It was like what he had done to Kurt, and the scariest part was that when he looked up at Puck, Finn and Sam they had looked as surprised at themselves for doing it as Karofsky had been with himself for kissing Hummel.

And if that hadn't been enough, he'd gone from gym to his Government class, where Rachel Berry had presented an article on how yet another leader of an anti-gay group had been caught with a male prostitute.

And it was too much. All Karofsky could hear was Finn in his head for the rest of the day.

"You know it's funny Karofsky, how you're calling everybody gay all the time, but you never seem to have a girlfriend."

The plan had come together in his last class of the day, where he sat behind Susie Pepper. It was perfect. The whole school knew that she was a psycho, she was totally desperate enough to go out with a sweaty ham hock like him, she had followed Mr. Shuester around even with the man's crazy wife threatening to kill her, so Karofsky clearly had plenty of leeway in case he screwed something up. And she was so crazy that he could probably convince Azimio and Strando that he was only dating her because she put out, which was really the whole point of this whole girlfriend plan anyway. So that he'd be seen with a girl that people assumed he was doing all that stuff with. So no one would ever believe that one time he'd lost it and…kissed Kurt Hummel.

The bell rings and Karofsky repeats his mantra for the week over in his head again.

Be Nice. Don't Get Angry.

He's aware that this has actually all gotten harder since Hummel transferred. He had thought it would be easier, not having what Hummel was rubbed in his face every day, but all he had really managed was to lose his one outlet for his frustration, and make it okay for the glee club to gang up on him. Catch 88.

"Hey, Susie?" He asks tremulously.

She actually turns around, and she doesn't even sound mean when she says, "What do you need Dave?"

"I was uh, I was wondering if you could help me out with the homework… like maybe at lunch tomorrow."

She looks at him, surprised but not mad and shrugs, "Sure. Meet you here?"

"Okay."


End file.
